


In The Company of Fools

by GypsyJr (HippieGeekGirl)



Category: Psych
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-28
Updated: 2010-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-07 15:17:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HippieGeekGirl/pseuds/GypsyJr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn is drunk and insecure. Gus is mildly confused. Just another day in Psychland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Company of Fools

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as gen or slash, depending on your preference. Title lovingly and shamelessly borrowed from Great Big Sea, who are apparently my Psych muses.

**1990**

"D'you think we'll always be friends?"

Gus looked up from his homework. Shawn was sitting across from him, spinning a quarter on the picnic table. This was one of his more useless talents, and he'd once spent an entire afternoon trying to show Gus how to do it before he'd declared it pointless and annoying.

His eyes turned toward the window, where Shawn's father was no doubt keeping an eye on them. "Your parents fought again, didn't they?"

"I guess." Shawn frowned, sending the coin on another orbital rotation around the tabletop. "I don't know, they don't fight like normal people."

Gus nodded sympathetically, returning his attention to his math textbook. He hadn't gotten much further before Shawn poked him in the arm. "Well?"

He considered the question carefully, as he did every question he was asked. Logically he knew that no matter how close they were, kids on the brink of adolescence with their whole lives stretched ahead of them were likely to grow apart. He'd seen evidence of this as his sister had grown older. And yet... Shawn was the exception to so many rules.

There was another irritating scrape of metal on wood. He reached out and slapped his hand over the quarter, pocketing it before Shawn could protest.

"Of course we will."

**Present Day**

"Dude. What do you get out of this?"

Gus stopped rummaging in his kitchen cupboard momentarily. "What do I get out of what?"

"This... everything. Us."

It was a fair question, he supposed. A lot of people didn't get why they were friends, including his own parents. He'd just never expected Shawn to be the one to ask.

At the moment, Shawn was sprawled on the sofa, looking up at him with a wide-eyed, earnest expression. It was a look specifically intended to be disarming, and while Gus had seen that calculated charisma save their necks more times than he cared to remember, there was no mistaking the sincerity behind it in this case.

"It scares me when you get introspective, Shawn. Either that beer hit you pretty hard or you're about to tell me you've got six months to live."

"Yes to the first, no to the second. At least not that I know of." He frowned. "That seems like the kind of thing someone would tell you."

"Seriously, are you okay?" Gus's hand was reaching for the medicine cabinet before Shawn could even reply.

"I'm fine." He held up his hand in a placating gesture, somehow managing to take up even more couch space in the process. "Just haven't eaten much today."

That at least was plausible. They'd spent the day wrapping up a case involving a mauling at a dog show (the handler turned out to be the killer, using the dog as a weapon) and neither of them had much of an appetite afterward. Judging by the way Shawn was rooting through a bag of corn chips like a pig looking for truffles, he was having no such difficulty now.

"Okay then. You want to tell me what brought on this little Oprah moment?"

Shawn gestured wildly again, scattering Fritos all over the rug. "I dunno, man.We've been friends practically forever and we never talk about this stuff."

Gus thought there was probably a good reason for that, but he shoved Shawn's legs out of the way and sat down anyway. "Fine. But if we're gonna do this, you're going first. What do you get out of it?"

"What don't I get out of it?" The look on Gus's face immediately told him that this answer wasn't going to cut it. He closed his eyes, concentrating. It was a while before he spoke.

"I guess, in a nutshell... stability."

Gus nodded. He knew that with his natural charm and talent, it would have been all too easy for Shawn to skate through life in an entirely aimless way if no one was around to guide him. When they were younger, his father had been the grounding force (literally as well as figuratively) but as they'd grown older, Gus had taken on more and more of the responsibility.

He'd often thought about what kind of life he would have had if the two of them had never met. It was hard not to when they spent almost every day teaming up on wild goose chases that usually turned out to be not so wild in the end. He could have had a safe life, a comfortable life. But it wouldn't be _this_ life, and that was were he always got stuck

Shawn nudged him, determined to lounge even though he was no longer the couch's sole occupant. "Your turn."

"I get you," he replied simply, reaching over Shawn for the remote. Normally he'd have worried about the effect of that statement on his friend's not exactly inconsiderable ego, but the fact that he was asking at all meant he was looking for reassurance. Besides, if past experience was any indication, Shawn would end up crashing on the couch for the rest of the night and never mention this conversation again. "Now scoot your ass over and pass the chips."


End file.
